I think about dying a lot.
More than I should.
I figured it out...
I'm too in love with life to ever
meet it's dreadful father.
This commitment I'm in
This lifestyle they want me to adapt to,
I can never really do.
I'm not the hero type, obviously...
Guess what?
It's just me and my family.
So what am I fighting for?
This place makes me feel hopeless.
Such an odd transformation
Akin to Superman going back to Clark Kent
I take that uniform, put it on,
losing everything that makes me.
In this vessel inserted with regulations, responsibilities, a forced image,
I lose my hair, literally.
The stress takes and I daydream of how it was before,
before another nightmare speaks to me.
Do you know what the color black represents?
Red is passion,
White innocence,
and black is the absence of all that.
The absence of anything.
When I listen,
that's all I see when I imagine a future where they own me.
I'm a fool.
Honestly.
I don't think bullets can hurt me.
Explosions only occur in Michael Bay flicks,
with the lead escaping certain doom in every scene.
This isn't a gun I carry.
Just another joke bruh.
There goes the enemy.
Black.
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